


In The Shadows

by ladywolf



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywolf/pseuds/ladywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If the moon smiled, she would resemble you.<br/>You leave the same impression<br/>Of something beautiful, but annihilating." -slyvia plath</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(recommend listening: http://8tracks.com/scorpiod/hero-of-the-story : Tiger Mountain Peasant Song - Fleet Foxes // I’m In Here - Sia // My Body Is a Cage - Boho Dancer )</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Shadows

 

_You know the story don't you? About the girl given to the gods?_

 

 

_Born during the cycle of life, a great journey by the Feathered Serpent, by declaration of the priest she had a connection to the gods. She was taken to live in the sacred temple, chosen by the gods, to await their call. And so they say she appeared as the sun, the moon, and the stars. Yet they loved her, for her grace, her honor. They would bring her jewels and adorn her with flowers as offerings for her journey. It sounds so lovely doesn't it?_

  
  
_The day soon came for her to join the gods, and in heavenly ascension everyone celebrated her. They gathered throughout the temple grounds, looking up at her in glory, and as was ritual, she had been covered in the most beautiful flowers. Not everyone was worthy enough to be with the gods, and some coveted the honor, but all stood in awe as she was reborn._

 

 

* * *

Santánico lifted herself up from the floor but was hindered by a substantial tug around her neck, an iron collar. Her running had been in vain, falling into a much worse fate. She sat up and checked her arms, her skin, her mouth, and though she hurt nothing was wrong. Maybe it had all been a dream and she was not a monster. Watching dust fall in the few rays of light she waited, panicked for whatever consequence was sure to come.   
  
  
  
Hours revealed themselves passed, for the moon's glow had found her floor.  At the sound of faint footsteps steadily coming closer, Santánico hid behind her altar. Two guards came dragging someone behind them, and the air was filled with something new; a scent she could not ignore. They dumped their charge and left as quickly as they arrived to her chamber. She crept towards him, body rising and falling with breath, then hovered over him as close as her chains would allow. This perfume, awfully enticing, begged for her, evoked an emptiness in her. She had never felt so hollow; and the feeling consumed her, caused her to lean into him and strike. 

Her teeth sunk in his flesh, and this drink, pure essence, commanded her. So screams went unheard as she was reluctantly ready to devour him; possessed so deeply by the ache to be full again. By her force his arm ripped off. The sight of him squirming, screaming and trying to escape, frightened her to stop. The boy, killed in her name, returned in her eyes. Cut open, blood pouring out of him at the hand of his father, and now her hands, like beast's teeth, were covered in blood. She had stumbled away from him and forced herself against the wall as he lay there gagging. She was paralyzed, suspended in terror until he stopped moving; gone from this world, free of the pain she caused. She had bled and died differently; cried in sorrow and relief.  
  
She was the only prisoner here to suffer. Had running from away really called for such cruelty? Yet this was always her fate. If she had not been deemed close to the gods, a sacred vessel, if she was not so precious, then she could just be dead.

 

The night took her in perfectly, keeping her still until she closed her eyes to rest for nothing. “Así es preciosa, consume them completely.” 

His voice creeped inside her, quiet and inevitable. The real monster, who made her this way, was here in her mind somehow. “Don’t worry my love, I will be there soon.” She wasn’t asleep but desperate to wake up. “I’m sending someone to you.” But he was holding her there; captive in his kingdom. “One day, you will be my queen…Santánico”

 ***

"Well you've been quite the troublemaker." Time was still and endless for her in this place leaden by torment; and she was unable to keep track of days. "In fact no one will go near you. They're too scared after you ripped that priest to pieces." She sat up, her restraints chiming with every move, and directed her attention to the man in the archway. "Those are to make everyone feel...  _safer._ " 

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"You will need to feed again soon, but The Nine Lords sent me here to...  _monitor_  their interests. I'm sorry what was your name?"

"Santánico."

"The new guards will make sure you are taken care of... but be sure not to rip them apart next time." He took the arm she'd severed and frowned. "The Lords need their due and they have given you a second chance, don't be so foolish to ruin it." He snapped his fingers and two guards appeared, taking mangled parts of the body with them. "I'll check on you again, Santánico."

An ambassador for The Nine to enforce their will upon her; this is what she had waited for—someone to explain what she had become, this new part of her.

 

* * *

 

Visions of the girl covered in flowers, surrounded by a chanting people, invaded her dreams. The people begun to pray to her and for her, and so the sky turned black as she made her journey. Santánico became the girl, covered in flowers, and saw herself climb up temple steps where she would take her place on the altar. It was her turn to be given to the gods. Blood began to pour down until she was drenched in it, screaming herself into consciousness.  
  
She had killed someone, ripped them apart like the man said, except so much of that night was unclear. Did she attack the high priest who hunted her, or was it another? Reborn from the earth as living dead, flashes of light and blood, so much blood, was all she could remember.  
  
She could no longer pretend she remained the same girl, for there would always be a monster beneath her surface. Her punishment: to live an illusion, be of the same body but not the same blood. Her life would need endless death, and yet never be satisfied. This was her place, in the shadows of night, and the heart of damnation. She would learn that there must be salvation in her sacrifice and the lives she took would not be in vain. This was her fate, but she was alive, and she would correct the wrongs done to her.


End file.
